Squirrely

Yeah…so…here’s a picture of a squirrel. Hmm. What’s that, you say? What’s so special about a picture of a squirrel? Well, this is not just ANY squirrel. Oh no. This is a very special squirrel. Really? It doesn’t look so special, not at first glance, anyway. But this squirrel IS special…unique, even…because it is the only squirrel in my neighborhood. That’s right. The. Only. Squirrel. I’ve never lived in a neighborhood that wasn’t chock full of squirrels. But my neighborhood had none, not until this little one turned up. Rabbits, yes. I even have a resident garden toad. But no squirrels. It’s been suggested to me that the reason is that there aren’t any mature oak trees around here. And that’s certainly true. This subdivision is only about 12 years old, and the few oak trees that have been planted are still pretty small. So this little beastie is a kind of pioneer (I will now think of her as “Laura Ingalls Wilder Squirrel”), discovering my lovely bird feeder and bird bath as her own little house on the prairie. And just yesterday, I discovered another little friend—either a chipmunk or a gopher—hanging out near the bird feeder. It seems like I’m the neighborhood Snow White, attracting all the woodland creatures to me.